Irresistible
by GoldenNickel
Summary: "Hey, Holmes!" "Yes, Detective Inspector?" "Don't act innocent with me! How dare you get me into bed and then just leave!" "Are you saying that you wanted me to stay?" Mystrade one shot. I wrote this as a sequel to my other Mystrade one shot, Legendary, but it can also be read as a stand-alone fic.


**Sequel to _Legendary_ but could be read as a stand-alone.**

"Hey, Holmes!" Mycroft heard the voice of Greg Lestrade shout from somewhere behind him. He turned around slowly, a small smirk forming on his face.

"Yes, Detective Inspector?" he asked calmly.

"Don't act innocent with me, Holmes!" Greg shouted, "How _dare_ you get me into bed and then just _leave_?!"

"Are you saying that you wanted me to stay?" Mycroft asked, half of his lips curling into a smile.

Greg's face turned a deep shade of pink as the blood rushed to his face. "That's not what I meant," he muttered. He looked up at the slightly younger man and scowled.

"Look, I do apologize, alright? I shouldn't have let it get as far as it did, with you being so intoxicated." When Greg didn't reply, Mycroft kept talking. "I suppose, if you'd like, we can just forget that this ever occurred. You can go back to being 'not gay' and we'll just continue having a strictly business relationship. Just remember, we can never completely avoid each other, as we both have to look after my younger brother."

Greg stared at the elder Holmes brother silently, letting the words process in his mind.

"Fine," he said, finally, "We'll forget it."

Greg didn't catch the slightly disappointed look on Mycroft's face. "Alright, Gregory," Mycroft said, keeping his voice carefully void of emotion, "I suppose I'll see you again the next time my brother gives you trouble."

"Right…" Greg muttered, "I'm just gonna…go see if I can get some sleep before I have to be at work."

When Greg was back in his house, he glanced at the clock. It was 3:17 am. Only 24 minutes had passed since he'd woken up in bed with Mycroft Holmes. The detective inspector tried desperately to sort through his thoughts. What had made him allow Mycroft to sleep with him? Was it the alcohol?

_No,_ he thought to himself, _I wasn't _that_ drunk. I knew what was going on, but I let it happen…But I'm not gay._

Greg sighed and threw himself backwards onto the bed, laying there for a long time before falling back asleep. He noted, with a small smile, that the sheets still smelled like Mycroft.

* * *

Less than 3 hours later, Greg was sitting at his desk reading a case file. His eyes moved over the pages, absorbing none of the words.

_"We can just forget that this ever occurred," _Mycroft's voice bounced around inside his head.

_I just wish it was that easy,_ Greg thought to himself. Frustrated, he flipped to the front page of the file and began reading again. 15 minutes later, Greg had gone through the file 3 more times and still hadn't actually read it. He cursed and threw the file aside.

Greg placed his head in his hands, propping his elbows on the desk, and closed his eyes. He began thinking about the night before. He thought about how it felt, kissing Mycroft. His face flushed at the memory and he shook his head in an attempt to forget it.

"A case just came in." Sally Donovan stuck her head through the doorway. "I hate to say it, but you might want to call the freak."

* * *

"How was your night, Lestrade?" Sherlock inquired with a smirk on his face.

"Let's just work on the case," Greg said gruffly.

"Fine, I don't care to know how you and my brother spend your nights, anyway."

Greg's face flushed. Curse the Consulting Detective's ability to deduce everything and anything about someone. How had Sherlock known it was Mycroft that Greg spent the night with, anyway?

"Sherlock, behave," John said, "We're here to solve a case, not to embarrass everyone."

Sherlock just shrugged and hunched over the dead woman in front of them.

"Fine. I won't mention the fact that the Detective Inspector smells just like my brother, even though I know they normally wear very different deodorants. Or how-."

"Any ideas about how she died?" Greg interrupted, attempting to change the subject.

"Several…" Sherlock noted.

Greg spent the rest of the day listening to Sherlock spew out facts that only he would be able to deduce from the crime scene. It didn't take the younger Holmes long to find the woman's cause of death, and her murderer. The man was behind bars before nightfall.

"I do hope you have another nice night, Lestrade," Sherlock said, hailing a cab, "Goodness knows my brother could use it."

"_Sherlock,_" John hissed, "Why do you feel the need to say stuff like that?"

"What? I was just making observations," Sherlock said as the two of them climbed into the cab.

"I apologize for him, Greg," John said out the window as the cab drove away.

Greg sighed and climbed into his car. Rather than driving towards his own home, he headed towards Mycroft's place of work.

* * *

Mycroft was sitting in his office when he heard an angry knock at his door. Before he could say anything, the door swung open and Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade entered.

He marched up to Mycroft's desk and slammed his hand down on its' surface. In less than a breath, Lestrade leaned forward, over the desk, and crashed his lips onto the other man's. He grabbed the collar of Mycroft's suit and pulled him forward so that they were both leaning halfway over the desk.

Greg only let go of Mycroft when he had to take in a breath. He glared at The British Government in exasperation.

Mycroft was uncharacteristically flustered as he attempted to fix his shirt, which Greg had pulled out from where it had been tucked into his trousers.

"I, er-. Gregory, what exactly was that about?"

"This is your fault, you know," Greg stated, still glaring at the man on the other side of the desk. "Do you know, I read a case file 4 times this morning and I still have no bloody idea what it's about? Also, your brother now believes that we've been shagging."

"Well we _have_-," Mycroft began to point out.

"That's not the point!"

"Well what do you propose we do?"

"About Sherlock? Nothing. He'll always figure out the truth anyway."

"What about last night? Do you want to keep pretending it never happened? Because if you're going to come in here every day and kiss me like that-…" Mycroft let the sentence hang in the air, not sure how to finish it.

"After the divorce I was convinced I'd be alone…and I was okay with that. But now, after last night…I don't know anymore." Greg stared down at the desk in front of him.

"I really am sorry about what happened last night," Mycroft said, "But only because you were drunk. I'm not sorry about what happened. In fact, I enjoyed it."

Greg's face turned a light shade of red. "Maybe…maybe we can just start slowly? I mean, go out to eat sometime or..."

"Yes, that sounds good," Mycroft said with a small smile. "I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

"It's a date." Greg said, still blushing as he left Mycroft's office.

**Okay, I am not 100% happy with how this turned out, but the idea has been in my mind for weeks now so I had to write it. Reviews would be amazing, thanks.**


End file.
